The Drawer
by CSI Salyards
Summary: Who would have thought that something so insignificant as a drawer would hold all the answers they had been searching for? House/Cameron. One-shot. Spoilers for "The Itch"


Title: The Drawer

Pairing: House/Cameron

Rating: K+ for mild language

Summary: Who would have thought that something so insignificant as a drawer would hold all the answers they had been searching for? House/Cameron. One-shot.

Spoilers: Story takes place during and after the episode "The Itch" but situations are altered somewhat to suit my purpose. 

Disclaimers: As always, I don't own House but wish I did. And reviews are always appreciated.

A/N: Special thanks to athousandsmiles for her spectacular beta'ing! You were such a huge help to me and this story would not be what it is today without all your hard work. Thank you so much! Go read her stories! She's fabulous!

**************************************

Staring out her bedroom window, Cameron sipped her favorite Shiraz as she watched the sun disappear from the sky. Reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks fanned out across the horizon, casting the room in pastel shadows. The dim embers of dusk wrapped around her like an embrace, bringing a bit of comfort to her divided heart.

Reluctantly, she turned away from the window and narrowed her eyes at the tower of clothing perched at the edge of her bed. Casually, she reached forward with her wine glass and pushed, watching with morbid satisfaction as the kaleidoscope of fabric and color toppled in slow motion to the floor.

"_You know why we spend nights at my house? Because when we spend them at yours, I can tell you don't want me there."_

"_Why would I keep inviting you over if I didn't want you there?"  
"You always kick me out every morning. You never offer me a drawer, you never cleared out your closet for me…I was just a visitor."_

"_How long have you felt like this?"_

"_From the start. I know it's hard for you because you lost your husband but… I can't keep chasing you forever." _

Her conversation with Chase gave her a lot, too much, to think about. She'd spent the better part of an hour removing clothing from that same drawer and ultimately re-folding, putting them back, and then removing them again. And through it all she knew it shouldn't be this difficult. Clearing out a drawer should be easy.

Was her dead husband really the reason she couldn't seem to make room for Chase in her apartment and therefore her life? Yes, that was certainly part of it. But deep down she knew it wasn't her husband she was having trouble letting go of. There wasn't room for Chase in her heart when House had never left it.

If her heart was a nightclub, then House was the bouncer, guarding the red velvet rope that lead to Club Cameron. She pictured him standing there with his arms crossed, dressed in head to toe black, thoroughly menacing even with his cane propped against a wall behind him. Occasionally, someone like Chase snuck behind the velvet rope, but it didn't really matter. House would ultimately find them and pitch them out headfirst.

She knew what she had to do, but that certainly didn't make it any easier. Gathering up her car keys and a side of courage, she drove the short distance to the hospital where she knew Chase would be coming off his shift.

Switching off the ignition in the parking lot, Cameron took a deep breath, hands clutching the steering wheel hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. _ Breaking up sucks._ Finally winning her internal battle and mustering up the courage to leave her car, Cameron had barely entered the building before she ran into Chase.

He approached her slowly, eyes narrowing as he took in her rumpled appearance.

"You were right," Cameron blurted out. "About my husband. It affected me. It still affects me."

"If you're saying that you'll never be able to…"

Cameron looked away, blinking back the tears the she refused to shed. God it would be so easy to just tell him it was all her dead husband. He would probably believe her if she cried and told him it was just too much, that she wasn't ready. But she couldn't do that to Chase. She was about to hurt him, but she wouldn't do it with clouded truths and half-assed lies.

"It's not…it's not _just _my husband, Robert," She paused, gaze flicking between the floor and the wall "You said earlier that you can't keep chasing me forever. You're right… and I don't want you to chase me anymore."

It seemed like an eternity before he spoke.

"It's House, isn't it?"

Her eyes met his. She opened her mouth to speak, but there was really no denying it. She had tried to move on from House, and she could give herself credit for that, at least. Her silence spoke volumes.

"It's always been House," Chase sighed, sitting down on the small bench nearby. Hesitantly, Cameron took a seat next to him

"I'm sorry, Robert," she murmured.

"I know," he said simply, shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'll never understand what you see in him, Cameron."

"Nobody does," she replied sadly.

"Nobody else has to, Cameron. I guess I always hoped you'd get over him some day, then you'd be able to let me in."

He rose to his feet and reached down to help her up off the bench. With aching tenderness, he pulled her into a hug.

"I really hope you can clear out that drawer for him, Cameron."

Cameron closed her eyes, feeling the first tears slide down her face.

"Me too."

*************************************

Glancing out his bedroom window, House noticed the last trace of sun dip below the horizon. While it had been light when he'd first sat down with his guitar, his apartment was now cast in a dreary haze, perfectly suiting his current mood. God but he hated getting in touch with his feelings. _What a chick thing to do _he thought miserably as he strummed on his guitar. Loathe as he was to admit it, House was "tuning in" to his _feelings. _

He still wasn't quite sure what had possessed him to kiss Cuddy. She'd told him once that their "ship had sailed", and House knew this was _good _news. He wanted to set fire to that ship in the middle of the damn ocean for crying out loud. Yet one evening seeing Cuddy reduced to tears and he was sucking face with his past. He would absolutely _never _admit this to a living soul but…House really couldn't stand to see a woman cry.

As soon as their lips had parted House knew it was a mistake. He didn't want Cuddy. He wanted someone who could never belong to him. _Cameron._

House often tried to convince himself that like Cuddy, his "ship had sailed" with Cameron. But deep down he felt that if he ever actually got off his crippled ass and went after her, she would ultimately be his. Nothing but his stubbornness prevented him from having her.

Seriously, what kind of man _resisted _when a young, sexy----no—drop dead gorgeous woman set her sights on him. How many people had to tell House he was going to die alone before he believed it, before he _did _something about it. He believed it now. He really was going to die alone.

The tentative knock at his door interrupted his morbid thoughts. Ignoring it, House continued to strum on his guitar hoping whoever it was would just go away and leave him to rot.

"House."

He abruptly stopped playing. House didn't know whether to curse or cheer that Cameron had come knocking on his door. If he were a religious man he'd say God had answered his prayers and sent Cameron to his door just when he needed her the most. More likely it would be the devil sending Cameron armed with a wedding invite to celebrate the union of Mr. and Mrs. Wombat. _Oh gag._

Whatever reason she was there, House wasn't going to find out if he didn't open the door.

Setting aside his guitar, House grabbed the ever-present reminder of his handicap and began his 3-legged gate to the door.

"Cameron!" House announced with false bravado as he threw open the door. "To what do I owe this unexpected surprise? Have a fight with Mr. Wonderful, thought you'd give the House booty call one more try?"

"Something like that…" Cameron mumbled, shocking House into silence as she brushed past him and into his living room. Shutting the door behind her, House turned to find Cameron standing in front of his couch, arms crossed protectively across her midsection.

"I broke up with Chase."

"I kissed Cuddy."

"O---kay?"

"Sorry… I thought it was lame confession day."

"Why did you kiss Cuddy?"

"Why did you break up with Chase?"

"House!" Cameron sighed, running a hand through her frazzled blonde hair. "I'm serious."

"So am I," House retorted.

"Shit," Cameron grumbled under her breath.

House's eyebrow shot up to his hairline as he watched Cameron pace back and forth across his living room, her expression changing rapidly from panicked, hopeful, angry, and a few others he couldn't even put a name to. _What the hell?_

"Cameron… what are you doing here?"

She stopped pacing at his inquiry, but kept her gaze trained to the floor.

"I don't even know where to begin," Cameron sighed.

"The beginning is usually helpful."

"Not helping."

Taking a deep breath, Cameron moved closer to House, keeping a few feet between them as she finally met his gaze.

"I need to know if there is still a chance between us."

House gaped at her question, forcing down the excited flutter in his stomach.

"To ask if there is still a chance would imply that there was ever one to begin with." _God damn it what the hell are you doing? You want this. You've wanted her for years._

"House, please don't be glib about this. I left Chase… for you. I did that without any guarantees from you, I know that." She took a step closer. "I'm asking you one last time… do you want me?"

This was it. All House ever wanted presented before him in a neat little Cameron package. How many times had he been in this situation and somehow found a reason to turn her away?

"And if I say no?"

"Then I'm gone. I can't stay here if I can't have you, House. I tried and I failed. I spent a year and a half in a relationship with someone who should have been my best friend. I know what it's like to be on that end of a one-sided relationship, and I know what it's like to want you when you don't want me. I'm not going to put myself through that anymore. I can't stop loving you." She took a deep breath, stepping even closer so she had to tilt her head to an uncomfortable angle to look up at him. "Do---you---want---me?"

Staring down at her, something snapped inside him. That last bit of Cameron-resistance inside him sputtered and died. There was only one answer.

"Yes," he swallowed. "Yes, I want you."

Cameron's lip quivered as tears sprung into her eyes, overcome with a level of emotion she hadn't felt in years.

"Kiss me, House. Make me believe you want me as much as I want you."

Willingly and without hesitation, House pulled Cameron into his arms and met her request. The moment their lips collided, a fire sparked and flared inside them. If there had ever been any doubt in either of them it was quickly singed by that fire.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, Cameron pulled back. Breathing ragged, she smiled and reached up to stroke House's stubbled cheek.

"I hate to ruin this moment but… why now? I've threatened to leave before."

"I don't know," House mumbled. "I was an idiot to resist you for so long. And if you ever tell anyone I said that I will be forced to spank you."

"Promises, promises."

With a grin, he stored that bit of info away for later. There was still one thing niggling at this brain.

"I still don't know what you want with an old cripple like me."

"I like damaged people… remember?"

House leveled her with one of his best death glares.

"House… I don't want to fix you. Don't you think I would have found someone long before now if that's all I needed? You're not the only damaged man in the universe. Not by a long shot. My husband needed _someone _in that last year of his life. I was happy to be that person. But I don't want to fix you, House. I just want to love you."

He smirked.

"God you make a really terrible poet you know that?"

She laughed and slapped his chest.

"House! I was being serious."

"I know. You'll just have to work on proving it to me." He said, offering her one of his rare full-blown smiles.

Her responding grin was just as radiant.

"I look forward to it."

_And I have the empty drawer to prove it._


End file.
